


Drunk Confessions are Not Generally Advisable Among Polite Company

by Cookiemonster2000



Series: Frans One-Shots [6]
Category: Heathers, Heathers The Musical - Fandom, Undertale
Genre: Crossover, F/M, I'm too tired to tag properly happy easter guys lmao, Teenagers awkwardly admitting their love for one another, basically an au i came up with but dont have time to write out completely, i guess this qualifies as fluff, it's just kinda awkward, so just /throws/ take this, uh nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 18:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14170929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookiemonster2000/pseuds/Cookiemonster2000
Summary: Who climbs in someone's window at 4 AM?





	Drunk Confessions are Not Generally Advisable Among Polite Company

**Author's Note:**

> The results of a late night binge-writing session three months ago from being inspired by a bunch of Tumblr prompts. I love Heathers, but I couldn't see classic Sans as a JD, so I made a few changes.

Her eyes stinging from the since-forgotten tears, Frisk made her way down the dark street, stumbling only slightly because of the alcohol buzz.

She glanced down the road and suppressed a laugh. Almost made the wrong turn. Maybe it was a little more of than a buzz, after all.

Still stifling laughter, she leaned on the mailbox of his house. ...It _was_ the right house, right?

No, the mailbox said 29-212. That was their house number. She glanced up at the house, knowing that he was inside.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all.

Suddenly, Undyne's expression after her outburst at the party flashed into her mind's eye again, and she was spurred on with new intensity. 

Frisk clambered over the fence, trying not to knock over any trash cans. Losing her balance, she slipped and fell onto the wet grass of the early-early morning. She huffed and glanced upward.

A sinister smile spread across her face. There was light shining through his window. He was still awake.

Jumping to her feet, Frisk ran her hand along the wall, considering her options. His window was on the second story, but she could probably climb up on the trash can and scramble in, since he always left it slightly open on the warmer autumn nights.

She couldn't just break in the back door. She didn't want to wake up his dad. Frisk suppressed a shudder. Window, it was.

With difficulty, she heaved herself up onto the large trash can, waving her arms for balance. Leaping up, she managed to grab the window ledge, hanging by one hand. She reached up desperately and grabbed the ledge with her other hand, breathing heavily.

_Yeah, this was a terrible plan entirely._

It wasn't _too_ far to fall. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to brace herself for the fall.

Suddenly, the window flew open entirely and Sans's head popped out. He veered back when he saw her, the back of his head hitting the frame.

"Frisk?? What the f--"

"Sorry," she mumbled, sweating. "I'll just--"

He reached down and grabbed her arms, lifting her SOUL gently as he pulled her up. She kicked her legs helplessly until they hit the bricks, trying to relieve some of her weight.

Panting, he managed to heave her in the window. She fell on top of him with a huge _thump._

She opened her eyes to see him staring right back at her from two inches away.

Instinctively, she reared back and tumbled off of him, blushing furiously. Now that she was actually _here,_ her alcohol-induced nerve was almost entirely gone.

There was a pause when they both just caught their breath.

After a moment, Sans rolled over and stared at her calmly, chin resting on his hand. "Care to explain why you were climbing in my window at one in the morning?"

"I--" Her breath hitched. "I just wanted to see you."

". . .smelling like alcohol, no less?" He raised a bonebrow. "I thought you went to the party." 

His voice held a touch of resentment.

"It's not my fault you didn't feel like going," she defended herself, "my friends just--"

Friends.

_Not anymore._

Her eyes suddenly started welling up with tears. Again. _Shit, shit, shit._

Sans's eyes widened. "Whoa, hey, what's goin' on, pal? Are you okay?"

"Yeah! I'm totally fine! I just wanted to see you. Did you get all your physics done?" Her voice was shaking.

He shook his head. "No, seriously, what's wrong, pal? You're – kinda freaking me out. You've--"

Frisk collapsed into herself, curling up in a ball, weeping.

After a moment of terrified, frozen internal wrestling, he reached over and patted her on the shoulder awkwardly.

She leaned into him, still crying, and wrapped her arms around him instead, burying her face in his shoulder. He flushed instantly, but managed to wrap his arms around her back.

"Shhh."

She sniffed. "I don't-- I'm sorry for waking you--"

"I was up watching Netflix anyway, 's cool."

She hiccupped, making a half-laugh, half sob. "I-is this what you normally do on Friday nights, you s-stupid-face?"

Sans froze.

Suddenly, he tightened his grip and pressed his head against her shoulder. "What did you just call me?"

"Shut up, I always call you--"

"Not for a long time, actually. Did something happen between you and the--"

"Yeah, they're idiots, and I n-n-never should have stopped hanging out with you, and I'm so sorry, and I'm an idiot, and--"

"Hey, shh, it's ok." Sans's gentleness surprised even him. _Was it really ok?_

Yes... it _was_ ok.

The weeks of chilliness and ignoring were completely forgotten. He had his best friend back. She was sorry; it was enough.

"I missed you." he murmured into her hair.

" _You_ missed _me??_ Do you have any idea how annoying those p-popular people can get??" she giggled, still crying.

"Pretty much, yeah."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "God, I'm s-so--"

"It's ok, shut up. You're fine, pal. I forgive you."

"I can't believe--You always do. That's why I love you."

The world seemed to slow to a stop when she whispered those words into his shoulder. He was suddenly hyperaware of the way he was holding this messy, small, beautiful human, her hair a mess, sobbing her eyes out.

"You--"

"Oh no. Oh, no, I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so so sorry." she cried quickly, dismayed. "I didn't mean to--I mean, I came here to tell you, but I didn't think--I--we can still be fr--"

He shoved her away from him, gripping her shoulders tightly. His hands were shaking. "You _love_ me?"

She was avoiding his eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to--after everything--can we just pretend--"

" **Do you love me.** " His voice was overcome with intensity.

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of his dark sockets. "I-- yeah, I realized when we stopped hanging out, and I missed you, and I couldn't stand not being around you, and--"

He yanked her into him, pressing his mouth into hers roughly.

Her lips tasted like alcohol, but that wasn't any surprise. She pulled back quickly, a frightened look in her eyes. Her hands were gripping his shirt.

"S-Sans--"

Her words were cut off when he wrapped his arms around her again and kissed her. She brought her arms up around his neck, and abruptly broke the kiss again, shoving her head into his shoulder. He growled.

"Fr--"

"I think I'm drunk," her muffled, entirely embarrassed voice came from his shirt, "and if we start kissing I'm not gonna be able to stop, so let's save it for another day, please?"

"Oh, lord. I'm so--"

"Don't apologize!" she squeaked.

He loosened his hold around her a bit. He could feel her breaths.

"I think I'm gonna throw up."

"You are?"

"--right now."

Frisk clapped her hands over her mouth, falling backwards. Sans yanked her to her feet, stumbling over the piles of junk in his room, pushing her into his side bathroom. 

She fell over the toilet and retched.

He winced. "No worries about that kissing thing, then."

"Sans!!" she cried, completely mortified.

"How much did you _drink??_ I should't've let you go alone."

"My fault--you're not my dad--" She hurled again.

"... but you probably needed a chaperone, huh?"

"Alphys was trying." 

"Couldn't keep Undyne under control, huh?" he remarked.

"Sans, I think she hates me now--" more vomiting.

"Wouldn't be surprised." he said cheerfully. "But that's nothing to worry about, right? Now you've got me."

"A stupid-face nerd who likes books and Netflix and science more than going out on a Friday night--"

"--to get completely wasted, climb into your friend's window at two in the morning, confess your love to them drunk, and hurl in their bathroom? Yeah, pass."

She retched again. Sans cocked his head to the side, listening. Was there . . . thumping downstairs?

"Hey, do you hear--" he began, concerned.

Sans's door slammed open. Gaster stood ominously in the doorway, staring down at the two teenagers.

They both glanced at one another, wide-eyed and terrified.

"What... the _absolute **hell**... is going on here??_ "

Frisk fell over the toilet and puked.

**Author's Note:**

> Bluh, I wrote this a while ago for fransweek and stuff happened so i never posted it. I hope you enjoy.


End file.
